


When The Moon Turns Its Back

by csmicat



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, Written for Momota's birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 21:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14294040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/csmicat/pseuds/csmicat
Summary: Momota can't sleep and instead spends some quality time with the Ultimate Pianist.





	When The Moon Turns Its Back

Momota couldn't sleep. His mind refused to slow down, keeping him awake in the process. Amami Rantaro was murdered that night. As one of the first to discover the body, he memorized the shape of the corpse, the places of his belongings and the blood-- the blood was the worst part.    
  
It wasn't _red_.    
Red like they learned in biology. Red like they see when a knee is scraped. Red like all those horror movies. His blood was _pink_. It was bright, and pink and it was everywhere. Highlighting his dead body like it was all a show. A picture cruel enough to stay in their minds for years to come. Given they have that kind of time.   
  
Akamatsu and Saihara were investigating, so he didn't worry much. If the astronaut could trust anyone, it was Akamatsu. Not to mention that Saihara is the Ultimate Detective! Although…   
  
__ 'We didn't even know his talent...'    
  
The sound of an imaginary clock ticking in his head haunted him. Groaning in annoyance he tossed and turned, trying to find a position that might ease himself to sleep to no avail. With a frustrated growl he rolled unto his back. Staring at the dark ceiling the astronaut thought of what to do. He wasn't able to sleep, this being one of those night. A quick glance at the digital clock on his bedside table told him it was almost 2 am. Resigning to his fate, he slowly got out of bed. He yawned, stretching and glaring upwards. _'Tired enough to yawn about it, but not to do anything about it.'_   
  
Clad in pyjama pants and a tank top Momota left his room. Not that it was really personalized much. He wasn't going to stay in this place much longer. He will escape together with everyone else. He'll make sure of it. Not dwelling on his temporary room any longer he stepped out, deciding on getting a glass of water. As much as he likes his fellow classmates-- mostly --he really wasn't in the mood for chatting right now. It was the middle of the night. He just hoped not to run into anyone.    
  
The dining room was empty. Momota didn't waste any time in getting water. As quick as he came, he exited again. Still as awake as hours before, he started walking through the school. While climbing the stairs a thought shot through his head.   
  
A frown appeared on his face. He almost forgot. Before he could continue thinking, a soft melody flooded his ears. It wasn't loud, it wasn't quiet either. It sounded soft, bright and yet, melancholic too. Not being as much of an idiot as most seemed to think, he quickly realized that it could only be Akamatsu playing. Although, why she is playing piano in the middle of the night might go beyond Momota's comprehension. He didn't want to deal with people, but Akamatsu has always been a little different. She was like him in a lot of ways. Though she took a more direct approach, usurping the leadership role quite easily. Momota admired her. Debating with himself, he shook his head and quietly opened the door with a smile on his face. It wasn't as big as usual, but one of his most sincere.    
  
The pianist didn't seem to have noticed him. The music kept playing, filling the room to the brim. The moonlight shone through the clear windows. Akamatsu's light hair appeared almost silver. The scene itself reminded Momota of those renaissance paintings. Pushing down any reactions, he tiptoed forward, thinking of ways to not scare the girl out of her wits. Suddenly the music winded down and the girl turned around with a smile playing on her lips.   
  
“Couldn't sleep?“   
  
Taken aback Momota opened his mouth and answered.   
  
“No. You?“   
  
Orchid eyes wistfully looked to the floor.    
  
“No. I kept thinking about everything. I failed and now we have to find the mastermind before more of our friends get hurt.“   
  
Momota scrambled forward. It's not true. She didn't fail. She didn't fail at all. She did everything she could. That's more than most of their classmates can say. “That's not tr--“   
  
“Momota-kun,“   
  
The two of them locked eyes. The smile on the pianist's face started to unsettle him a bit. He felt like he's not getting its meaning--   
  
“Will you sit with me for a short while?“   
  
The astronaut wanted to ask why her eyes showed the slightest hints of wetness now that he was closer. He wanted to ask about the ponytail she was rocking. He wanted to ask about the way her pyjama's looked like she didn't even try to sleep. He wanted to ask about the meaning of her smile, her melody, her aura. Why does all of this seem so wrong?    
  
In the end he nodded, settling in beside her. Her graceful fingers stroked the piano. Momota followed her movements closely. A sharp intake of air.   
  
“Today is my birthday you know.“   
  
The fingers tensed up, before relaxing as the girl sighed softly. Smiling back up at him she tested the keys. “I see.“   
  
She played from lowest to highest note with closed eyes. Her companion was unsure of what to expect.   
  
“Let's play something fitting for the occasion then, shall we?“   
  
The fingers started rapidly moving over the keys. Switching from high to low, creating a melody reminiscent of summer nights and twinkling lights. The sound turning into stars. The awe wouldn't leave the astronaut's face. It was like Akamatsu created galaxies, weaving intricate patterns and releasing them into the vast universe. It reminded Momota why he wanted to become an astronaut so bad. Why he spent all his playtime as kid with reading books of astronomy, and worlds far away. A soothing calm blew over him. A genuine smile formed on his lips. The girl smiled right back at him. Momota came here to find sleep, but sharing this moment with Akamatsu and experiencing the reason she was called the Ultimate Pianist…   
  
It was one of his best birthday gifts yet.   
  
.   
.   
.   
.   
.   
.   
.   
.   
.   
.   
.   
.   
.   
.   
.   
.   
.   
  
Later that day he found the answer to all of his questions. Akamatsu's eyes showed hints of wetness because she was crying at her desk instead of sleeping soundly. Akamatsu wore a ponytail because her hair was a mess and she can't play without seeing anything. Akamatsu's pyjamas looked untouched because she changed into them, hoping time would turn back. Akamatsu smiled like that because she knew this would happen. Akamatsu seemed sad because she knew this would happen.   
  
Akamatsu played the piano one last time because she _knew this would happen._ __   
  
And Momota couldn't do anything as she confessed it all. He tried to fight it-- deny it if he must-- because it couldn't have been true, right? But when the blonde girl flashed him the same soft smile, displaying all the remorse, grief, helplessness she felt the night before, he knew it to be true. Her eyes instead showed everything else. All her wishes, and hopes, and dreams, and love and her future. All the things she lost. Tears began to stream down her face. She sobbed. A low murmur only audible to himself and Saihara escaped her withered lips.   
  
“I'm so sorry. I don't want to die yet.“   
  
Without warning she was pulled up. Saihara and Momota both tried to reach for her. The taller succeeded in touching her fingertips, but it wasn't enough.   
  
They watched helplessly, almost hypnotized, as Akamatsu was played with like a puppet on a string. The piano fell shut. Silence reigned. Momota's head was pulsating, his eyes wide. Conflicting emotions tearing him apart. Relief. Akamatsu could no longer feel the pressure on her throat. Anger. Momota would destroy this killing game. A single look around the room put his internal chaos to an end. His classmates with pained faces, tears rolling down their cheeks. Saihara down on the floor.    
  
He felt hollow. Through the emptiness he started crying, while snapping at Saihara. This isn't what she wanted. She entrusted Saihara with her wish. He wasn't allowed to quit already. None of them were. It was all so much. Everything was swirling around him, but he still felt so damn empty.   
  
Barely stepping through the door, Momota fell to his knees. His fists were thrown at the floor repeatedly. The intensity grew with his frustration. He was shaking. Half an hour later his hand was sore, his knuckles started bleeding. His head sank together with the rest of his body. With his forehead he touched the dark floor. A silent voice-- his own he realized-- resonated through the empty room.   
  
“Happy Birthday, Kaito.“   



End file.
